


My First Kiss(es)

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Kissing Lessons, Trapped In A Closet, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 02:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10323971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: “Well, you’re in luck,” he said, too loud andmuchtoo cavalier as he bent and put his hands on his own hips, andoh god he thought he’d grown out of making a complete fool of himself in front of her.“I am?” she asked, slanting him a sly little look that made him rememberexactlywhy he used to make such a fool of himself in the first place.“This cat? Totally down for all of your kissing needs,” he said with a hand over his heart, practically begging her to shut him up, to shoot him down, to do something, anything that would give him back the ability to juststop.He knew that to this she would say,Oh my god, Chat.Or,Still? I thought we went over this.Or,Nice try, kitty.Or—“…You would?”—what.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *wakes up at 3am*  
> hey, you know what i should do? 
> 
> continue that fic dump

“H-hey, Chat?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve… you’ve kissed people before, right?”

It was such an _odd_ question that Chat stopped and stared. “I mean… I guess so? Why?”

Ladybug puffed her cheeks at him, embarrassed, and tightened her grip on the string of her yo-yo where it was secured to the next rooftop. “Just curious.”

“Oh… ‘kay?”

He extended his staff and primed his next jump, but apparently Ladybug wasn’t quite done yet.

“Can…” Chat glanced over and was surprised to find her fidgeting. “Can I ask when your first kiss was?”

He shrugged, watching her wind and unwind the string around her fingers in not-quite-concern. “Sixteen?”

Instead of an explanation, he got an explosive sigh.

“Ooof course you were,” Ladybug grumbled, testing her anchor with a hefty yank. “Figures.”

Chat slowly lowered his staff, collapsing it with an idle thought and the tap of a button. “…Something eating at you, Buginette?”

“Not… really,” she sighed again, avoiding his gaze. “Just…”

“’Just’?”

She bit her lip. “Don’t you think it would be… kind of pathetic for someone who’s almost eighteen to have never kissed anyone before?”

“Nnnno?” Chat dragged out, eyebrows shooting up. “Everyone does this stuff at their own pace. It’s not like there’s a time limit on it or anything.”

Ladybug kicked the ledge in front of her. “I _feel_ pathetic. I’m gonna be eighteen next week, and _still_ …”

 _Seventeen_ , he filed away, heart thumping. Seventeen going on eighteen at the end of April. That made her only a few months younger than him, actually. Somehow, he would’ve guessed she’d be older.

…He needed to buy her a birthday gift — and also possibly one for each birthday he’d missed in his ignorance.

Ladybug sighed for the third time and folded her arms. “I mean, between school and the akuma and everything else, I just… didn’t think I had time? But if _you’ve_ done it, then what’s my excuse?”

“Not being ready?” he offered, twirling his staff in his palm. “Not wanting to get into a relationship you didn’t have the time to devote yourself to? That one was a problem for me.”

She made a face. “More like lack of opportunity.”

Chat, the guy who’d been trying to convince her that she had the perfect opportunity with _him_ for quite some time, just stared at her for a moment, and then looked away. “…Or that.”

“I’ve been trying to get my crush to notice me for, like, _three years_ now,” Ladybug groaned, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. “But I just… _can’t.”_

…Well, that was something Chat could sympathize with, at least.

He pushed aside the faint hurt with a sigh of his own. “Well, wanting your first kiss to be something special is worth waiting for, isn’t it? That’s not pathetic at all.”

She paused in her digging, but didn’t take her hands away from her eyes. “I… I think I’m done waiting for it to be special.”

A snort punched out of Chat, who was frantically pretending his insides hadn’t decided to start up a swing-dance club. “Frustrated?”

(He had a chance, he had a chance, he just might have a chance! It might not mean anything, and maybe he’d lost his chance for it to mean anything to her, but god oh _god_ —

He had a _chance_.)

Ladybug pulled her face out of her hands and shot him a wry grin. “You have no idea.”

“Ready for it?” he teased, arms behind his head and stomach in knots.

_Please say yes, please say yes, please say—_

Hope, Chat was coming to find, was a terrible thing.

“And I say again,” Ladybug said, wry grin taking a turn for the droll as she set her hands on her hips and sighed. “You have _no idea.”_

Something about the way she said it put a whole slew of images in his head that, to an outside eye, would have been perfectly G-rated — even if the way they made him feel wasn’t particularly G-rated at all.

“Well, you’re in luck,” he said, too loud and _much_ too cavalier as he bent and put his hands on his own hips, and _oh god he thought he’d grown out of making a complete fool of himself in front of her_. 

“I am?” she asked, slanting him a sly little look that made him remember _exactly_ why he used to make such a fool of himself in the first place. 

“This cat? Totally down for all of your kissing needs,” he said with a hand over his heart, practically begging her to shut him up, to shoot him down, to do something, anything that would give him back the ability to just _stop_.

He knew that to this she would say, _Oh my god, Chat_.

Or, _Still? I thought we went over this._

Or, _Nice try, kitty._

Or—

“…You would?”

— _what_.

“Of course,” said Chat’s mouth while the rest of him just _staggered_. “Who do you think I am?”

‘Sly’ turned into warmly amused and a little shy, and _fuck_ , that was even _worse_ somehow. 

“A terrible flirt and a good friend?” she offered, letting her yo-yo string sag as she moved towards him. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners was due to give him heart failure any second now, _really_. “Who…” She trailed off and glanced away, then back at him even more shyly. “Who might not mind if I’m a little… inexperienced?”

…Chat would very much like to meet the asshole who wouldn’t _die_ for a chance like this, much less mind, so he could punch them in the face.

“And…” She nibbled her lip, now less than a meter away. She shot him another glance, sheepish and hopeful, and Chat pressed the hand already on his chest down a little harder, trying (futilely) to keep his heart where it was. “And who might not mind teaching me the ropes? O-only if you wanted to, of course!”

Being the first person to ever really kiss Ladybug would have been enough, but for her to ask for him to _teach her how?_

“‘C-course,” he stammered, feeling like he might need a wall to sag against at the very thought; Ladybug asking him how to angle her head and asking if she was doing alright and… “Who would mind?”

She swayed in a little closer, looking even more shy, and Chat sort of gave up on keeping his heart where it was, letting go of his chest so he could rest that hand on her shoulder. Her hands hovered in the space between them, undecided as to whether she wanted to hug herself or rest them on him.

“Not you?”

He cupped her cheek, hating his gloves for depriving him of the feel of her skin. “Definitely not.”

She smiled, soft and sweet and grateful, and if this was a dream, Chat really needed to wake up, because this was giving him terribly unrealistic expectations for reality.

She hummed low in her throat, and tilted her head back in explicit offer, and then, for as many times as he’d thought it in jest, there really _was_ nothing to do but kiss her.

He was burning up where he stood at the first tentative brush of her lips, but he expected that. He was melting at her first happy little sigh, but he expected that too.

And if he was having trouble breathing at the innocence of her movements, at the thought of how much _trust_ she was putting in him for this, well, he hadn’t expected it.

Because, really, who could have expected this?

 _Be gentle, be careful, keep it chaste and keep it easy_ , he recited to himself like a mantra, thumbing her cheek and sliding his hands to cup the back of her head, tilting it so he could reach a new angle.

The mantra nearly shattered over the tiny little mewl she made at the shift, restored in an instant at the touch of her hands, which she’d finally decided to rest on his shoulders with so much sweet hesitation the gesture nearly took him out at the knees.

 _How_ she’d never kissed anyone like this before was a mystery to him — especially that crush of hers. She was just so _much_ ; how he could have passed this up was far, far, _far_ beyond Chat’s ability to comprehend.

She was clumsy and untried but every stroke made her a little more confident, a little more eager, and the noises he was pulling out of her throat were threatening to put him in an early grave. Every soft gasp, unthinking arch, wanting moan put him a little more out of it, made him float a little higher.

He pulled away when he finally couldn’t take any more, his arms twined around her waist and hers around his neck, pressing them together from shoulder-to-knee in a way that let him feel every panting breath, the way her thighs quivered and the way her heart was racing, and oh god he _really_ needed that wall right about now.

“So,” he rasped, too low to even count as a whisper as her lips hovered only centimeters away. “What do you think?”

She blinked slow and heavy-lidded, a dazed little smile on her face that he was probably going to remember for the rest of his _life_. A moment of hesitation, and then a satisfied little purr and: “…If I said you’re _really good at that_ , would you ever shut up about it?”

Well, seeing as ‘shutting up’ required him to start talking in the first place, Chat had his doubts — he was pretty sure that having air in one’s lungs was necessary for that,

His ego sure appreciated the sentiment, though.

“M-maybe not,” he croaked, shuddering when she traced the edge of one laid-back leather ear.

“Hmm…” She continued to regard him with _that smile_ , and then gave the tip of his ear a sharp tug that went straight to his groin for no other reason than he was already _that_ wound up. “Then is it too early to start asking for remedial lessons? I’m not sure I got all that.”

 _“Um,”_ said Chat, the boy due to faint over _that smile_ any second now.

“Pretty please, mon minou?” she whispered, touching kittenish kisses along the line of his jaw and down his throat, little detonations of sparks racing over his skin at every one.

 _“Um,”_ said Chat, the boy who didn’t know how to say no to her when she so much as batted her eyelashes, much less did… _this_.

“I’ll study hard, I promise,” she teased, giving his throat an experimental little lick where she’d made his breath hitch with a kiss.

“God, I’ve unleashed a monster,” Chat only half-moaned, because she chose that moment to suck the spot into her mouth and give it a little nip

Ladybug yanked back, flustered, and Chat couldn’t help the whine of protest that escaped him.

“W-well, you didn’t tell me to _stop,”_ she pointed out, defensive, and Chat watched as a faint look of horror flicked across her expression. “You… you _didn’t_ , right?”

“Now what kind of _idiot_ would ask that?” he wondered, strangled and dazed, pressing a kiss to her forehead and feeling much too full of everything. 

He was very firmly not thinking about the moment he’d have to let her go.

Ladybug huffed. “And you still call me a monster.”

He trailed his lips down her temple, unthinking and enchanted by the way she gasped and opened to it. “You’re the cat’s meow, my lady.”

“O-oh,” she fluttered, smoothing her palm over his shoulder and shivering into him. “Good.”

Years worth of suppressed desires were slipping out of him one by one, coaxed out by the fantasy she was painting for him in her soft, happy sighs and warm acceptance — indiscriminate nuzzling as he pulled her closer, closer, closer, kisses down the sides of her face, glancing over the corners of her laughing mouth, whispering _you’re so amazing_ into the crook of her neck like the lovesick fool he was.

“Ch-Chat, I don’t… _mmn_ … I don’t think this is the way… the way kisses normally go… _oh_ …”

Chat’s mind flashed to the lucky bastard who’d spent _three years ignoring her_ , and he tightened his hold. “Anyone who thinks that it isn’t doesn’t deserve you,”

She paused, and then, oddly flustered, whispered, “…Oh.”

She slid her fingers into the strands at his nape and gave them a gentle tug, shooting sparks of restless heat down his spine as she pulled him away from her neck, and then kissed him.

It didn’t last long — just barely long enough for her to prove that she had learned much, just long enough to make Chat’s toes curl in his boots — and then she was pulling away again, squirming out his hold with a blush high in her cheeks and a wrinkle in her brow.

Somehow, he wasn’t sure how, he managed to let her go, the slow removal of her touch feeling like the slow removal of a bandage.

“Th-thanks, Chat,” she said, grin as sheepish as it was heartstopping. “For… for the kiss. And the lessons. And the advice.”

Chat folded his arms in front of his chest, the whole front of him icy in her absence, and hitched up a passably cocky smirk. “Anything for you, my lady.”

She blinked at the much-too-honest note he couldn’t quite remove from his voice, and Chat coughed.

“But. like I said! Totally down for helping you out. _Especially_ with kissing.”

He still sounded too honest, but at least here it just made him sound like a little bit of a perv, not two seconds from tossing his unasked-for heart at her feet.

“Uh- _huh_ …” Ladybug drawled, picking up her yo-yo string again, amused and affectionate. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

“That’s all I ask,” he said, placing his hand over his faltering heart ( _oh_ , that smile), and ducking into a half-bow (he didn’t trust his balance nearly enough to attempt a full one).

Ladybug giggled, light and lilting. _“Dork.”_

The endearment settled in his bones, and his heart gave a little lurch, like it wanted to throw itself at her feet, unasked for.

 _“Your_ dork,” he said, the words flowing out of him easier than they should have, and Ladybug snorted.

“I know.” She tested her line much more loosely than before, like he’d kissed the tension right out of her, and he was still distracted with that when she added, “Goodnight, Chat. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, my lady.”

He waited until she was out of sight to place a hand over his tingling mouth, to contemplate getting back while he felt like he did right then, to sigh, smitten, into the space she’d left behind.

This… this was going to stick with him for a long while, wasn’t it.


	2. Chapter 2

“So…”

Marinette, face buried in her hands as it had been for the last (incredibly awkward) two minutes, groaned softly. If both she and Alya were alive by the end the night, Marinette was going to commit a murder-suicide.

Alya needed to die because this was _all her fault._

 _Marinette_ needed to die because she couldn’t be expected to face the world after a night like this.

Making it to eighteen was good enough, right? Especially with the life she’d been leading. Especially with the school and the akuma and her stupid-pretty-yet-completely-hopeless crush and her stupid-pretty-yet-totally-platonic partner…

And here she was, thinking about Chat _again._

(Chat’s mouth on her cheek and his arms tight around her waist, whispering fiercely, _Anyone who thinks that it isn’t doesn’t deserve you._ )

Ugh.

Who did he think he was, anyway?

… _Besides_ someone who loved her and wanted the best for her.

Double ugh.

And here was Adrien, right in front of her with his stupidly pretty face and his stupidly kind smile, both of them trapped in this closet for the express purpose of taking her kiss-virginity, or whatever Alya wanted to call it, and Marinette couldn’t stop thinking about _Chat._

Screw him and his stupid, _stupid_ face.

(His bright eyes and unsteady, _awed_ little smile and the way he touched her, _kissed_ her like she was something precious, important, irreplaceable…)

Triple ugh.

“I’m… really sorry,” Adrien murmured, breaking the silence and touching her shoulder in brief apology.

Marinette sighed, letting her hands fall away from her face. “No, I understand. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal over not having my first kiss yet. Alya… can get to be a whirlwind sometimes.”

Adrien laughed his quiet, unobtrusive laugh, the noise of the party outside the door rendering it almost inaudible, and Marinette blinked into the darkness.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he said again, sounding like he had a hand over his mouth. “When you put it like that, she reminds me of someone. A… couple someones, actually.”

“Oh.” Marinette wondered if it would be rude to press.

Into the almost-silence, Adrien sighed, mirth sinking into something wistful.

…Yeah, it probably would be rude.

“If you’re not comfortable with it, we could mess up our clothes and pretend,” he offered, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.

“Alya’ll know,” Marinette pointed out, sighing herself. “She always does.”

“…That’s true.” He shifted, clothing rustling.

“But forget about that,” she went on, staring at where the far corner of the closet should be and cursing Chat and Alya out both in her mind. “I… I get it if you don’t want to-to… you know, um… that. With… with me.” Marinette coughed, hot under the collar and grateful for the darkness. “I— I mean, we can totally pretend, if you want. Alya can deal.”

The only thing worse than never kissing Adrien would be to kiss an _unwilling_ Adrien, and Marinette wasn’t about that. _Especially_ not on her birthday.

Adrien was silent for a moment and then, sheepishly, he admitted, “I agreed to it, you know.”

…He what now?

“So, I mean, it’s my fault too,” he added quickly, rubbing the back of his head. “That this happened. I said I wouldn’t do it if you didn’t want to, though, so…”

In any other situation, Marinette would have rather enjoyed not being the one babbling for once. As it was, she was a little too busy freaking out over the whole ‘I agreed to it’ thing.

Adrien was here because he wouldn’t mind kissing her. He was probably _only_ here because he wouldn’t mind kissing her. If Alya had gone to the trouble of asking him…

And Adrien had said _yes_ …

Oh god.

Adrien coughed again and chuckled nervously. “Sorry.”

Marinette, busy feeling like her insides had been replaced with snakes made out of _fire_ , experienced a long moment if confusion. “S-s-sorry for what?”

Was it too soon to need a fainting couch?

“Um.”

It was probably too soon to need a fainting couch.

“Because, you know, if _you_ don’t mind…”

Another sheepish headscritch, and Adrien said, “I mean, it’s you, isn’t it? Who would mind?”

Marinette _needed that fainting couch_.

(She was also going to give Alya the biggest bouquet she could put together at the nearest opportunity, but that was for later. Much later.)

“I-I-I mean!” she yelped, too loud and knees dangerously unsteady. “That… if you wanted to kiss me that’d be dreamy.” 

And then clamped her mouth shut, because obviously she couldn’t be trusted with words.

“…Uh.”

 _“A_ dream,” Marinette corrected firmly, like someone who wasn’t about to fling herself right through the stratosphere.

Adrien squeezed her shoulder again, concern seeping through the gesture.

“M-my dream,” sighed out of her traitorous mouth, which had gone lax with the tingles racing through her body, lancing away from his touch like the center point of a fracture.

And then her brain caught up with her mouth.

“I _mean_ —”

Adrien chucked again, sounding blessedly less nervous this time, and squeezed her shoulder. “I didn’t know that having your first kiss by the time you were eighteen was such a big deal.”

Marinette blinked, thrown by the jerk in the conversational thread, but Adrien distracted her before she could ask what he meant, a warm, soft hand laid on her cheek.

“Is this okay?” Adrien whispered, stooping down.

Seeing as Marinette only knew he was stooping down because his warm, sweet breath was crashing over her face and the way she could practically taste the vibrations of his words on her lips, she, perhaps understandably, didn’t have the air to respond.

She gave a sharp, jerky nod, her insides a writhing mess of panicked knots, and tilted her head back.

_This was happening, this was happening, this was happening, oh god oh god oh god—_

Adrien dropped a kiss on her tentatively puckered lips with a motion like fire licking up cardstock, and Marinette gasped, shock seizing her chest and raising every hair on her scalp, fists were clenched at her sides so tight they hurt.

“Pfffft.”

Her eyes snapped open, hurt and embarrassment joining the riot of emotion roiling under her skin. “Wha…?”

Adrien thumbed her cheeks, stroking her hair back from her temples and pulling back far enough to whisper, “You gotta relax.”

“O-oh.”  

And then, _“Oh…”_

 _This… she remembered this_ , Marinette thought, loosening up enough for Adrien to to catch her lower lip between both of his and giving his top lip a kittenish lick in return. This was how kissing went. She knew this. The slow stroke of mouths and lips and teeth and tongue, hands in her hair and stroking down her arms, light touches encouraging her relax a little more, a little more, a little more until she was _melting_.

She encircled her arms around his neck, using him to support the weight of all the little bits and pieces of her that no longer seemed to be entirely connected, feeling floaty and tingly and _desired_ , and Adrien laughed into her mouth again, wrapping his own arms under her thighs and turning them so he could hitch her up against the wall behind him.

For as many times as she’d fantasized about it, none of those fantasies quite held a candle to the glorious reality of Adrien’s hipbones digging into her inner thighs, stretching the muscles there deliciously, adding to the glowing heat that was concentrating in her face, in her chest, low in her belly…

She shuddered against him and Adrien rumbled a groan of approval, and her thighs jerked a little farther apart in instinctual response, liquid heat suffusing her body from knee to bellybutton. 

(He didn’t kiss _quite_ like Chat — rougher, more playful, more willing to move her this way and that and to do what he wanted with her. He kissed less like worship and more like friendship, like casual affection, and Marinette couldn’t help but think, in the very back of her mind with the two brain cells she had left to rub together, that, somehow, this was the kiss she’d expected to get from Chat.)

(And that maybe Chat’s kiss had been the one she’d wanted to get from Adrien.)

He pulled away, parting their lips with a wet click that made her legs tremble around his hips, and kissed her nose. “So, what do you think?”

Even with déjà vu sending cold pinpricks through her cloud-nine fog, all Marinette managed was a soft, _“Mmmn…”_

“Not bad for a first kiss?”

“M _hmmm_ …”

He chuckled again, chest shifting her bra against her sensitive breasts, and Marinette had to stop for a minute and bite her lip before she could process the words that came after it.

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

Seeing as his voice _alone_ was making her consider going after the fastenings of his clothing, propriety be damned, he probably should.

It took Marinette another second to gather herself enough to breathe, “Y-yeah…” into the crook of his neck.

Adrien gave a full-body twitch and dropped her legs with a slightly shakier laugh. “Well! I’m… happy. Thank you. A-and happy birthday!”

Marinette made another sound between a moan and a happy purr, and Adrien twitched again.

She got the feeling he was going to say something else, but that was when the door to the closet burst wide open.

“Hello! Just coming to check up on you crazy kids to make sure you’re not… Oh man.”

…Forget the bouquet, Marinette’s plan for Alya went right back to ‘murder-suicide,’

Or maybe just murder.

She hadn’t luxuriated in the glorious reality of being kissed senseless by _the_ Adrien Agreste just enough quite yet.

“Thiiis looks like a bad time,” said Alya, jarringly _other_ in Marinette’s happy little bubble of her-and-Adrien. “I’ll just come back la—”

“Actually, you came at a great time!” said Adrien, jerking away from the wall and taking Marinette with him by consequence.

“I really don’t think i did.”

“Here,” he said, steamrollering right over Alya’s amused protests. Marinette found herself torn out of his warm arms and deposited into Alya’s much cooler ones with little ceremony. “I… need to go get something. F-from the kitchen. Or the bathroom. I forgot. Thanks!”

Marinette adjusted to the light just in time to see Adrien flee, disheveled and flushed bright red.

“Uhhh,” said Alya, quirking a baffled eyebrow over her baffled grin. “Oh-kay then.” She looked at the swooning girl in her arms. “So. How’d that go for ya?”

It was a good ten minutes before Alya managed to get anything vaguely coherent out of her, which, Marinette supposed, made her plan a success.

(And yet, through all her happy haze, when she got home that night…

It was still Chat she was thinking of as she traced her lips.)

(Chat’s mouth on her cheek and his arms tight around her waist, whispering fiercely, _Anyone who thinks that it isn’t doesn’t deserve you._ ) 

(…Quadruple ugh.)


End file.
